After arriving in Montpellier, I usually write a short post saying how uneventful the trip was. This time, it was at least somewhat eventful.
Kathryn and I arrived at the airport in Phoenix somewhat on the early side and then headed to the Centurion Lounge for some refreshments before the flight. The lounge offers a decent view of the north runway, and after a couple beers, we saw our Air France aircraft land. I glanced at my phone and saw that boarding was supposed to begin in 46 minutes. I didn’t figure that was nearly enough time to turn around an Airbus A350, and it turned out I was right. A few minutes later, we received push notifications that our flight had been delayed by about a half hour. We had scheduled a leisurely connection in Paris, so we weren’t too concerned. Better to get the update in the lounge than in boarding area.
The flight took off about a half hour late, as per the new plan, and everything was fine for a while. Dinner service came around, and Kathryn and I both ate at least some of it, and I also took advantage of a digestif when the cart came around. I put in my earbuds and listened to some music for a while, and then rather uncharacteristically I fell asleep.
At some point, well after the dinner service had concluded and the cabin lights were dimmed, I woke up feeling lightheaded and nauseated. I thought maybe I’d had a little too much to drink, and I probably had, but not enough to feel like this. I also felt like I had to pee, so I got up to use the bathroom. When I got to the bathroom, I felt even worse, and I remember looking at myself in the mirror and uttering “Oh, shit!” out loud. I’m not sure what happened next — I must have collapsed since I have bruises on the left side of my body — and some time later, I came to on the lavatory floor. I washed my hands and stumbled back to my seat. My best guess is that I was suffering from dehydration, but that could simply be confirmation bias on my part after having read an article last week about dehydration and flying. Either way, Kathryn had brought a bottle of water, and having some of it helped me feel better almost immediately.
We arrived at Charles de Gaulle according to our revised schedule, and formalities were routine — for Kathryn and me. I don’t know if it’s senior discount week in Paris, but it seemed like we were surrounded by clueless American geriatrics at both the security checkpoint and passport control. Kathryn and I provided some guidance to an older couple in front of us at the security checkpoint who were unsure of what needed to come out of their bags. They were nice and thanked us. With that couple now behind us, we arrived a few moments later at the automated passport control. By that time, I had about had it with the complete lack of situational awareness exhibited by a gaggle of my boomer compatriots, who, seemingly unable to read instructions that were also in English, blocked all four machines. I finally said, “Pick one, please!” in a tone that was probably slightly nasty, but it got them to turn around long enough that Kathryn and I could pass by them and use two of the machines to clear passport control.
Like I said, we had plenty of time for our connection in Paris, so we spent a while in the Air France Salon. It was a little too late for bacon and scrambled eggs, but I had a nice slice of quiche, and Kathryn and I relaxed for a while.
Our flight to Montpellier was unfortunately not going to be at a proper jetway — something that happens from time to time at this crowded Paris airport — so we made our way early to the bus that was going to take us to our plane. Shortly before our scheduled departure, the captain announced that, due to an air traffic control issue, we were going to push back about ten minutes behind schedule. In Paris, ten minutes late is basically on time.
The airplane taxied as normal, but after accelerating into its takeoff roll, just at that moment when you would have thought rotation was imminent, the captain aborted takeoff. That was a new one for me. The plane pulled off onto a taxiway, and we waited for a while. Apparently, there had been some sort of alarm during the attempted takeoff, and the cockpit crew needed to confirm the next steps. Once they were cleared to try again, we taxied back to the runaway, and everything went smoothly for the rest of the journey, other than arriving in Montpellier about an hour later than expected.
